Snowmen
by Cathelm
Summary: Esmeralda, Saradoc, and Paladin are out in the worst storm seen in years with... they have yet to find out. Features Pip and Merry's folks when they were kids.
1. Part One: The Search for Paladin

**Snowmen**

**By Cathelm**

**Part One: The Search for Paladin**

A young hobbit maid ran out of the front door into the blinding snow. Shivering, she halted at the corner of the road. She squinted through the white, but saw nothing. "Paladin, where are you?!" she called again. The sound was swept away in the wind, and only silence returned.

"Esmeralda! Esmeralda, shut the door! You're letting in the cold!"

Esmeralda took one last look down the path, then turned and ran to the warm light of her hobbithole.

"Ma, Paladin's gone again."

"Well good for him! That's one less child for me to take care of. I've got five, and you'd think that'd be more than enough. I don't know how that old Took did it, what with having twelve children and all. Bah! One is more than enough for me. And they're all Tooks!"

But Ma, he's _gone_. . ."

"Well I'm too busy to go look for the rascal, and I don't want you running about and catching a cold. Your brother can take care of himself." She paused for a moment as she smoothed the shirt she was mending so it lay nicely spread across her wide lap. "Speaking of cold, we need more firewood. Oh, where is your father when I need him?!"

As if on command the door flew open, revealing three heavily cloaked hobbits, two grown and one only half their size, all with an armload of wood. One strode forward and threw his wood in a box by the fire.

"Good evening, my dears!" said he. "Aldagrim is here!" The sturdy hobbit laughed and grabbed Esmeralda and swung her around the room. "Ho! My little girl's cheeks are as red as a rose! You weren't waiting outside for your old Gaffer, were you?" He set the giggling maid on her feet.

"No no, 'course I wasn't waitin' for _you_, Pa" she laughed. "I was looking for-"

Before she could finish, Aldagrim had whirled around to face his wife. Esmeralda quietly retreated to the kitchen to brew some tea, knowing that she most likely wouldn't be spoken to for awhile.

"Well, don't you look lovely today, Thistle!" He pecked her on the cheek as he swept his wet hat off his head.

The hobbit marm huffed and crossed her arms. "My name is Pansy, you twit, and I'm a Bracegirdle, not a weed!"

"And so you always will be, my stubborn love." He turned back to the other two hobbits, who were still hanging up their coats and hats. "Come in, Rory!" said he. "And you too, young Saradoc, don't be shy! There's room enough for everyone around the fire, 'specially on a night like this."

"I hope we aren't intruding," Rory said as he and his son sat down in the armchairs by the fireplace.

Pansy hmphed. "Of course you aren't intruding! A few sensible Brandybucks are just what we need in this Tookish madhouse, strange as though Bucklanders may be."

"Please excuse her," said Aldagrim. "She's been cooped up in here with the little ones ever since the storm started."

Rory took one of the mugs of steaming tea from Esmeralda, who had returned from the kitchen. "I don't blame her. Brandy Hall's been snowed in for the past two weeks and a half, and all the wives are being run over by children with no place to take their energy. Saro and I finally managed to break a path out of there. Storm indeed! The worst I've seen since I was a lad. It took us half the first day just to get to the Brandywine Bridge."

"An' we had to lug all the firewood half-way here," grumbled Saradoc.

"Now mind your manners, boy!" Pansy scolded. "You came here to help, being a big child now, and help you'll do! And you can start be helping Esmeralda get your fathers some more tea and cake." She shot a glance at her daughter, then back to the young Brandybuck. "What are you two waiting for? Shoo!"

Saro looked pleadingly at his father. His tired eyes begged to sit down by the fire with the rest of the grownups.

Rory smiled sympathetically. "Don't worry, Saro." He patted his son on the shoulder. "We won't start the tale telling without you.

"But hurry back!" added Aldagrim. "Tales are tales, but they don't like to wait long when it's a night made for storytelling."

Saro dropped his head and said nothing. He dragged his feet as he followed Esmeralda into the kitchen.

But then the hobbit maid kept walking, right past the teakettle and pantry.

"Esmeralda, where are you going?" asked Saro in his small voice. "I thought we were gonna get-"

_Shhhh_. She whirled around with a finger to her lips and motioned for him to follow.

Saro sighed, but hurried to catch up with the girl anyway. "Tooks," he muttered.

Esmeralda was waiting for him at the end of the hall, where there was a side door. She motioned impatiently for him to hurry up.

"You Brandybucks are so slow," she complained as he walked up. "We've got important things to do tonight, and they've already waited long enough."

"What makes tonight any more special than the last two weeks?" asked Saro. "It's just the same old boring weather, making us stay inside with nothing to do."

"I didn't say _tonight_ was important, I said we have something important to do." The girl put on her mother's tone she opened up a closet and began tossing cloaks at the confuzzled lad. "Here, you can use some of Daisy's old coats. Bundle up well, now! It's cold outside."

Saro looked at the pile of clothes that was growing in his arms. "I don't know what you're doing," he said slowly, "But even though I'm four years littler than you..."

"And a Brandybuck, too!" Esmeralda scowled.

". . .I think I should know what's going on."

"Don't you pull your 'I'm the brilliant one' thing, mister Saradoc! You're still only six years old, y'know." Esmeralda began throwing several cloaks over her shoulders. "But anyways, we need to get going. My brother Paladin ran off again just a bit before you came, an' I don't want him to get killed, mischievious brat though he may be." She paused as she peered down the nearby hallway. "Come this way now. And don't make a sound! My sisters are either sleeping or knitting, but that won't matter if we get caught. Come along now, hurry!"

She tip-toed down the hall with Saro struggling to keep up with the bulky overcoats dragging behind his small frame. The quiet sounds of voices and needles clicking together floated out from under one of the many doorways. A floorboard creaked loudly under Saro's foot; they halted, straining for any hint of discovery from the lighted bedroom. Nothing. Quietly, they crept along.

At last they reached a barred doorway. "This is the back door," whispered Esmeralda, lifting the bar off its rack and setting it in a nearby corner. "No one ever uses it, 'cept to take the garbage out to the firepit. Don't dawdle now, Saro, we can still get caught!"

The door groaned as she slowly pulled it open, letting the cold night air whoosh inside. "Hurry on, get out!" Esmeralda breathed. Saro gathered up the ends his coats and scurried out into the storm. A blast of ice and snow hit him in the face, threatening to knock him over just two steps out of the doorway. Esmeralda pulled the door shut behind her with a quiet click. "This way," she motioned silently.

Saro hopped to catch up with the older girl as she walked briskly into the surrounding white. "Wait up!" he cried. "I can't see! Where are we going-" with a thunk he ran straight into Esmeralda, who had stopped to wait for him.

"_Shhh!!"_ she scolded. "Don't be so loud, we're still too close." With that she began to walk on again.

Saro scurried after her through the knee-high snow, with the wind still threatening to knock him off his feet. "But where-"

"We're going to Hogsmial Bridge." She peered about into the white, trying to discern if anything was there.

"Hogsmial Bridge?" asked Saro. "But it's been broken for-"

"Paladin and his friends always used it for a hideout. He doesn't know I know about it."

"But why-"

"I don't know." Esmeralda slowed her pace so Saro could keep up. "Pal was always doing funny things. Running off without telling Mum, playing jokes on the neighbors with his friends... you know the lot. But tonight he's gone too far. It's much too cold for him to be out by himself."

Saro stumbled over a rock hidden in the snow, but managed to catch himself before he fell. "What makes you think he's out there?" he asked. "And isn't he bigger than you? He can take care-"

"Just because he's bigger than us doesn't mean he's not stupid," Esmeralda cut him off sharply. "Remember the time he jumped of the roof 'cause he thought he could fly?"

"Well, yeah," said Saro, "But that was a long time ago-"

"Will you shut your trap and concentrate on walking?" the hobbitmaid snapped. "You're so slow! And while you're at it, try not to get blown away, will you?"

"Not my fault I'm little," Saro muttered. At that they became silent. The two children trudged along through the freezing cold, not knowing what was to become of them- or Paladin- in the dark of night.

"Paladin, where are you?!" cried the voice, straining to be heard over the howling wind.

"Paladin! Oh Pal, I'll tan your hide when I find you, stupid boy!"

"Esmeralda!" The little Saradoc scolded the girl. "That's no way to get someone to come out!"

The maid flung herself down upon a stump that once was nearly as tall as she. "It's hopeless," she moaned. "We'll never find him in this storm. Why, we could walk arms length away from where he's sitting and never know he's there!" At that she cradled her head in her mittens and began to sob.

Saro hopped up to where his companion was sitting and put his small arm around her shoulders. "Come on, now," he said. "That's no way to find your only brother. Let's go; Hogsmial Bridge is right around corner." He looked up pleadingly at her tear-streaked face. "Please?"

"Alright," she consented after a moment. "You're right as usual. I don't know how they're raising you Bucklanders, but they must be doing something right." She jumped to the snow-packed ground and began briskly to walk down the path. "Hurry up, slowpoke, I want to be home by morning!"

Saro smiled through chattering teeth as he scampered to catch up with the older girl, happy to see her renewed energy. Once again they walked side by side, never once taking their eyes off the side of the path in hope for a glimpse of the missing boy.

Paladin lay huddled underneath the rotting bridge, only slightly protected from the storm that whipped against his bared face. The wind threatened to hurl more of the decayed structure down upon him. The stream just in front of him was completely iced over, a sight he had never seen in all his twelve years. He looked at his frozen hands; nothing. All there was was white. He could hardly be sure he had a body anymore, let alone fingers.

The young hobbit was getting ready to give himself up to the mercy of the storm when something in the blinding whiteness caught his eye. In his delirium he could just make out two silhouettes coming towards him through the storm. 'Am I dreaming?' he wondered. 'It's too late for me, anyway. So cold . . .'

And with that last thought, Paladin closed his eyes and slipped into sweet nothingness.

"There it is," Esmeralda pointed. "Hogsmial Bridge. Hasn't been used properly since Mum and Dad were kids, but no one's bothered to knock it down." She shivered and wrapped her shawl more tightly around her. "I do hope he's here."

"He will be," Saro assured her. He squinted into the whiteness. "What's that funny-looking lump under there?"

The maid laughed and began to run as fast as her heavy skirts would let her towards the old wooden bridge. "It's Pal, I know it!" she shouted. "If there ever was a funny-looking lump, it's him!" Saro struggled to go as fast as he could to catch up with her, but the snow enclosed the better part of his body. He waddled on, breath coming out in small puffs of smoke.

When Saro finally managed to fight his way to the small undercover Esmeralda was bending over a still figure propped up against the underside of the bridge. "Is it him?" he breathed.

"Yes," she whispered. "It's my brother." She gently brushed her finger against the pale face.

Saro stood in silence for a moment, not sure as to how to respond to the girl's reply. "Is he. . . alive?" he finally asked.

For a long stretch of time they stood there, with Esmeralda resting her head against her elder sibling's chest and Saro shivering nearby. The wind whirled around their small bodies, making them fight to hold on to their scarves and coats. A sudden gust of wind blasted through the so-called shelter, taking Saro's hat away with it. The boy jumped after it, but within moments it was out of sight, lost in the monotonous white surrounding him. He returned to find the others still as motionless as he left them. "Well. . . Is he okay?"

He heard the maid take a deep breath. "I. . . I'm not sure." Esmeralda's voice shook as she spoke. "I think. . . he may yet be alive, but. . ." She sighed. She sat back on her heels and began to unbutton her cloak. "We have to do all we can to keep him warm. Can you spare a coat?"

Saro nodded and began to take off his own outer layers. "I'd give him my hat, too, but I lost it."

"Then mine'll have to do." They took off their coats in silence and placed them over Paladin's limp form. Without saying another word they huddled down on either side of him, desperately trying to keep both themselves and the older boy warm in the freezing cold. All around the storm howled, with none aware of the three children who lay shivering under an abandoned bridge far away from their homes.


	2. Part Two: Ghosts on Ice

**Snowmen**

**By Cathelm**

**Part Two: Ghosts on Ice.**

The three children sat long beneath the old bridge, with only the howling of the wind breaking the silence. When one finally spoke, it was in subdued tone, as if weighed down beneath the mountain of snow that was falling upon the earth.

"Esmeralda?"

"What is it, Saro?"

"I'm cold."

The young hobbitmaid sighed, and watched as her breath crystallized before it was swept away by the relentless wind that blasted through the crumbling overhang that hardly deserved to be called shelter. "I'm cold too," she whispered.

The younger boy shivered and rubbed his pale hands together. "Could I atleast have my mittens back?" he asked timidly.

"No!" Esmeralda snapped with sudden intensity. "Paladin needs them more than you."

As if on command, a low moan came from the still figure lying between the other two, his blue lips letting out what breath his cold lungs could manage.

Oh Paladin," the girl sobbed. "Oh Pal, please don't leave me. You've got to keep trying, Brother."

Answered only by the sounds of his short breathing, Esmeralda laid her head on her elder brother's shoulder, unable to keep the tears from her eyes any longer. Saro sat nearby, huddled up against the rotting shell of Hogsmial Bridge, trying desperately to hold on to any last bit of warmth that still clung to his little body.

Their situation was getting worse by the minute. The blizzard that raged around them had only increased its fury while the three hobbit children had huddled together under their flimsy structure. They had no food, and no energy left to push off the snow that was beginning to pile up around their small bodies. The same cold that had driven all of Hobbiton inside to their warm fires was slowly, surely, pushing the three young ones to Death's door.

_Skreetch. Skreetch. Skreetch. Skreetch._ The sound was deadened by the impenetrable white. Far off it was at first. Like the steady tolling of a clock it grew nearer.

_Skreetch. Skreetch. Skreetch. _A shadowy form began to appear out of the fog. It was manlike, on two legs, and yet not. It hunched over as it glided across the frozen river, masking its true height. Its great bulk was covered in shaggy white fur.

This was no man.

_Skreetch. Skreetch._ The figure spotted something in the near distance. A small overhanging it was. Not large enough to provide any shelter from the cold winds. Yet there, something had taken shelter.

_Skreetch_. The beastly form skidded to a halt in front of the little outcrop and looked down at the strange snow-covered mound before him. Here and there bits of color stuck out from the white: A corner of green cloth. A lock of curly brown hair.

The foot of a small child.

The creature bent itself over and peered at the odd appendage. It was bare, with no shoes or stockings, but it was covered in coarse hair down to the toes. The creature took it in its giant hands and lifted the ankle slowly up and down. The muscles in the tiny foot resisted, frozen from being out in the cold. Quickly the creature brushed the powder from the mound to reveal what was underneath.

Three small children lay as if sleeping, huddled together in what little protection the overhang offered. Ice crystals coated them from head to foot. Their faces wore expressions of angst, as if they had frozen in mid-shiver.

The creature reached up to touch the face of the largest child. It was cold, colder than the skin of those who are living, and as white as the snow that surrounded it. No breath escaped the child's mouth. Tiny bits of snow clung to the child's eyelashes, giving a harsh beauty that masked the truth of the situation.

With one scoop the creature picked the three children from the snow and laid them against his broad torso. Again the creature hunched its shoulder against the cruel wind, and, turning, set off back north the way he came.

_Skreetch. Skreetch. Skreetch. Skreetch._ The shadowy figure left the land of the Shire, never to be seen there again.

The earth beneath rocked gently to and fro as whiteness streamed past in a blur. Esmeralda yawned and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. She opened them wider and gazed at the pure, clean landscape about her. The clouds had ceased their downfall, and all was as still as only the dead of Winter can be. She yawned again and stretched out her arms.

Suddenly, she felt a jolt and the land came to a halt. She grabbed hold reflexively. Her hand met white fur.

With a gasp she became fully aware of her surroundings. She was hanging upside down. From the ice below her hazy reflection stared up with an expression of shock that mirrored the mess of questions that were darting about in her head. Above her reflection she could see two fur-covered legs ending in (primitive ice skates). She looked between the legs and saw... A distorted face glared back up at her, and the eyes seemed to burn a hole in her mind as they reflected off the ice.

"Help!" Esmeralda screamed. "Help! I've been-"

Before she could think she felt herself being swung to the ground. She gasped as she hit the ice hard on her back. But it takes more than just a little fall to put a stop to a hobbit. Esmeralda rolled over and sprung to her feet with all the nimbleness of a Took she could muster, and was off and running before you could count to one and a half.

But though the young maid certainly had the advantage in speed, the creature had size and strength on his side. Esmeralda had taken only three steps before something grabbed hold of her foot and caused her to go sprawling face first on the ice. She felt herself being jerked up by her shoulders. A hairy hand was slapped across her mouth. The rank smell of wet fur filled her nostrils, and she choked as she struggled against her against her constraints.

'_hssst'_, a voice breathed into her ear. She squirmed away from the hot breath and tried to wriggle away, only to find her hands held tightly behind her back. Her feet slipped about hopelessly on the ice as she tried to get away.

At last Esmeralda slowed her struggle; her captor was far stronger than she. There was no hope of escape. The creature loosened his hold on the hobbitmaid as she stopped fighting, and with a low grunt released her from his grip. The maid collapsed on the ice, sobbing gently. She made no move to get up.

She stared blindly at the ice, searching her thoughts for an explanation of why she was here. Bit by bit it all came back to her.

_Paladin rushing out the door without his hat._

_Little Saradoc coming in with his father carrying firewood._

_A blind walk through the snow._

_Pal lying almost as if dead under Hogsmial Bridge._

_The wind blowing, blowing, never once ceasing its fury._

And now- somehow- she was here.

Esmeralda shivered; though the blizzard had gone elsewhere and the wind had lessened its torment, the cold had remained. She pushed herself up from the ice and rubbed her hands against her face.

Something soft yet heavy hit her from behind. She turned; it was a cloak of white fur. She looked up at the strange creature that had held her captive. He was strange, the creature; not too unlike the man she had seen passing through one of the inns in Tookland once, and yet somehow very different. He was taller, and more heavily built, and... _colder_, somehow. And his eyes... She shivered again, and this time it wasn't from the cold. The creature glanced up, and his eyes pierced her mind, sending messages she could not understand. His eyes softened for a moment, then shied away from the maid's stare.

Esmeralda looked down at the white fur cloak the creature had thrown to her. It was hardened by dirt and wear, yet still had warmth to it. 'I wonder why he would give me a part of his own skin,' she thought to herself. She looked more closely at the creature's fur. She could find no seam on his body, yet the fur on his head seemed to be pulled over like a parka, covering all but his eyes. Somehow, the fur did not seem to be a part of him. 'Perhaps he is not as beastly as I thought,' she pondered. Intrigued, she dared to closer observe what the strange creature was doing.

He had unslung the rest of his burdens and laid them out side by side on the ice. He seemed to take great care in moving them, as if they were fragile. He was in between them and the hobbitmaid, with his back to her, so she crawled over, slipping about on the ice to get a better look.

With a gasp she started and scrambled as fast as she could over to where the strange man-like being had laid his possessions. There, lying on the ice with limbs strewn haphazardly about, was little Saradoc- and her brother beside him! "Pl, oh Pal!" she cried as she slipped over to where he lay still. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His body hung limp in her embrace.

The next thing she knew she was flying backwards with astonishing speed.

"No," said the creature.

"You- you spoke," Esmeralda stuttered. "You can speak!" The white creature dodged her words and laid Paladin gently back down onto the ice.

Esmeralda sat dumbfounded. She could not believe her ears. _The creature spoke!_ Perhaps it wasn't quite so as beastly as she had thought. But had he really spoken, or had he merely made some unintelligent grunt? There was only one way to find out.

The maid clambered to her feet, wincing from the bruise that was growing on her backside, and walked over to stand in front of the being in white. "Who are you?" she asked. The beast made no sign of having heard her.

She tried again. "My. Name. Is. Esmeralda," she said, separating each word from the next. "Who are you?"

The creature lifted his head and once again pierced her mind with that unnerving stare. For a long while the only sound was a lone bird calling out into the white, shattering the silence.

"As-Mar-Al-Da." The white fur-covered creature drew out every vowel as if it was stuck in the back of his throat. "Asmaralda."

The hobbitmaid stood speechless. "Esmeralda," she gasped. "Esmeralda! You said my name!" She knelt down beside him. "You really are a man, aren't you! I knew it all along. You're no beast, you're one of the Big Folk, like the ones who live in Bree and all those other far-off places. A bit strange, I must admit, what with all the fur and that grunting bit, but a man all the same!" She looked earnestly into the white man's face. He avoided her eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry if I've offended you, sir. I forget myself sometimes." The man made no response. "You do understand me, right?" He grunted and turned to rummage through one of the sacks he had laid on the ice.

Esmeralda sighed. Talking with this. . . man. . . was going to be more difficult than she had thought.

She let her eyes wander, and they came to rest on her brother. He was completely still; unlike little Saro next to him, she could not even detect the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. If he breathed. His face was whiter than the snow that piled on the banks of the frozen river. His skin had a faintly blue color to them.

"I'm sorry if I ever hated you, Paladin," she whispered.

Esmeralda felt the Big Person's stare on the back of her head. She turned to face his gaze. "Is. . . is he. . ." she gulped and swallowed at the lump in her throat. "Is he. . . dead?"

The man came over to where the hobbit maid knelt beside her brother. "What name?" he asked.

"Huh?" Esmeralda gave him a blank look.

"Yoo Asmaralda. Hee. . ." He pointed to her brother. "What name?"

"Oh." She blinked. "His name's Paladin."

"Pah-Lah-Deen?"

"Yes. Paladin. Is he dead?"

The man peered down at the hobbit boy's face and stroked his head with a white fur-covered hand. "No," he grunted. "Paladeen no. . . daa-d."

A surge of joy rose within the hobbitmaid. "He's not dead," she told herself. "He's not dead! My brother is alive!" She jumped up and down on the ice. She slipped and fell on her stomach. "Oomph!" she laughed and rolled over onto her back, gazing up at the white clouds. "He's alive!"

The man picked Esmeralda up and set her roughly to her feet. He went over to the two boys who were lying still on the ice and lifted them and settled them gently, one on each shoulder. He turned and began at a steady pace up the frozen river.

"Wait, where are you going?" Esmeralda trotted up to his side. "Home is back there, we're going the wrong way."

"We go." The big man grunted without pausing. His eyes remained focused upriver.

"But-"

"We go!"

The hobbitmaid fell silent and walked a few feet from the big man's side. She stared up into his face; hard as ice it was, just like the rest of him seemed to be. And with his white furs he appeared to have walked right out of the snowy landscape. Even as close as the girl was parts of him appeared to blend into the snow. She looked at the strange being, and wondered.

"Do you have a name?" asked Esmeralda.

The man gave no sign of having heard the hobbitmaid.

"What can I call you?"

They walked in silence. A little gust of wind came and blew around them, mangling the girl's hair and reminding them that the storm may not yet be through with its fury.

"Morut," said the snowman.

Esmeralda saw that no more would come from him. She contented herself with watching the white banks of the river move past her. The skreetching of the snowman's shoes on the ice fell dead in the emptiness. Esmeralda shivered, and felt a similar emptiness inside of her.


End file.
